


Kinda Christmas Canon

by mcgarrygirl78



Series: How Soon is Now? [7]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2415938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was much easier than Hotch imagined playing the lead role in his own downfall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kinda Christmas Canon

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on [](http://annadelko.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://annadelko.livejournal.com/)**annadelko** ’s prompt **‘stealing kisses under the mistletoe’**. The title is from the Christmas song and a little tongue in cheek as this is my ‘kinda canon’ universe where I explore what could’ve happened when Hotch was working on Ambassador Prentiss’ security detail.

He'd watched her all evening, while trying to do nothing of the sort. Her mother invited most of the detail to her ritzy Christmas shindig as thanks for the work they did throughout the year. Some of the detail was on duty but Hotch had already chatted with three or four other agents who were enjoying themselves as well. He wasn’t the most social person in the world so he just enjoyed the delicious food and a few drinks.

It was hard to find someone to talk to so he found a corner and got acquainted with it. It was easier to watch her from there anyway. One of his fellow agents, Melendez, told him he needed to loosen up. He didn’t need to watch Princess Prentiss tonight; this was a party.

“Unless there's another reason you're watching her.” Melendez gave him a nudge.

Hotch looked at him with an expressionless face.

“Don’t be crass, Howie, she's a kid.”

“She damn sure doesn't look like a kid tonight.”

“Shut up, Howie.”

“Ooh, did I strike a nerve, Hotch?”

Howie laughed again and walked away. Hotch was glad he was gone as it wouldn’t have looked so good to punch a teammate in the jaw. Emily was right, some of those men were looking at her in a way they had no right. Sometimes Hotch didn’t know if he was any better. Yeah, he was better. What was happening between them notwithstanding, he never tried to take advantage of her or push for something that she didn’t want.

If he ever found out Howie had there was going to be a problem. Not that she would ever tell him. Emily kept damn near everything to herself. It was the need to know basis with the teenager, and most people didn’t need to know. Hotch hated to think of himself as most people, but in that case he surely was.

The liquor flowed, the music played, and most seemed as if they were having a little too much fun. It was nice to know diplomats could have fun but hedonism colored the edges. Elizabeth Prentiss was right in the middle, the queen of the ball. Her daughter had gotten her hands on some mistletoe and was making the rounds to every attractive man in the room.

Hotch's blood boiled every time he watched a man's hands linger a little too long on Emily's hips, back, or ass. She didn’t seem to notice....he wondered just how much liquor she had to have to pretend to enjoy herself. Her mother made no move to stop her flirty, boozy behavior and Hotch didn’t want to push it so he stood in a corner and brooded. Dammit.

He wanted to get her out of here; take Emily someplace safe. He hated feeling like he couldn’t save her. He hated feeling as if he had to. Never had Hotch expected to walk into all this for his first assignment. It should've been simple. With the Prentiss family nothing ever was.

"Hey you!"

He jumped when Emily appeared in front of him wearing a sweet smile. Hotch suppressed his first urge, which was to give her a hard thumping for scaring him. Not that he would ever hit Emily, or any woman, but that had been his first instinct. Instead he just brushed it off and put on a friendly face. There were surely people watching; her mother’s ballroom was packed.

Emily looked beautiful in her dark red velvet dress. The v was a little too deep but she still managed to be tastefully covered. Like everything else where Emily Prentiss was concerned, it was an illusion. Like every man in the room, Hotch’s mind immediately went to a bad place. Well, it wasn’t that bad.

“Did I scare you?” she asked, wearing a giddy smile. It was almost manic in appearance.

“That’s what usually happens when you jump out on someone.”

“You love it when you jump on you. Or, maybe you don’t and you're the best actor of them all.”

"How much have you had to drink tonight?" Hotch practically whispered. “Are you on something?”

"Dammit Hotch, why does it always have to be about alcohol and drugs? Sometimes I don’t know if you want to fuck me or put me over your knee. You're not my dad, OK?”

“I'm just concerned, Emily; I'm not trying to baby you. Everyone else in the room is feeling in the spirit…why shouldn’t you be?”

“When I was a little girl these parties could get very Caligula, know what I'm saying. Those weren't the ones on US soil though. The European parties were insane. I used to watch from behind the curtain and wonder just what was missing from these people’s lives that they had to act like they did.”

Hotch nodded some, wondering if it was the same thing missing from Emily’s. She was one of the most fascinating people he’d ever met. He wanted to get to the center of her but knew profiling her would be bad for both of them. Still, he felt as if she was doing it to him all the time, even if she had no idea what it was.

“Check it out." She waved the sprig in his face, bringing him out of his thoughts. "I have mistletoe."

"I know...and you're not afraid to use it."

"There's that sense of humor. I knew you had it in you." Emily grinned. "Damn straight I'm not. Put your lips together, Agent Hotchner."

"Emily..."

She held the mistletoe over his head with one hand, wrapped the other arm around him, and kissed him passionately. He wanted to object, push her away, put that healthy distance between them, but Hotch was frozen. He wasn’t so frozen that he couldn’t respond...passion with her was nearly instinctual. It was much easier than Hotch imagined playing the lead role in his own downfall.

"Merry Christmas, Aaron Hotchner." She moved out of his arms but stayed close. The scent of her danced all around him. "I’m blowing this pop stand in a little while. Mother is holding court so she surely won't notice I'm gone. You know where to find me."

Emily flitted off to find more willing kissers. He wanted to stop her, run away with her now, but Hotch knew that was impossible. He was living in a fantasy land that he needed to come out of before a lot of people got hurt. Still, Hotch tasted her long after she’d left and knew he would taste more later when he snuck out too. It was Christmas, a time for miracles and wishes to come true. Perhaps the New Year would bring reality crashing down on his shoulders but tonight he was going to ignore everything but his feelings.

***

Once it was a tool shack but Emily made it her special place. Even her mother managed to comply with her wishes…no one was allowed there but her. All the gardening supplies were moved out and replaced with beanbag chairs, a futon, and two bookshelves. There was a radio for when she wanted to hear her favorite songs. Chinese paper lanterns in all colors hung from the ceiling.

There was no electricity but she always have four hurricane lamps lit, Little House on the Prairie style. It was the only place Emily was completely at peace. She could shut out the whole world and get lost with Jane Austen, Kurt Vonnegut, or even a little Nora Roberts. Whatever she wanted she could have in her cottage.

She pulled Hotch in quickly after he knocked. It was cold outside and the shack didn’t have heat. There was a small gas heater but she had to be careful with it. Paper and fire weren't very good friends. Still, it was better than freezing. He took off his coat and put it around her shoulders.

“It’s chilly in here.” He said.

“So you give me your coat? You're not the smartest guy, are you Hotch?”

“Haha. I’ll be fine; you're shivering.”

“It has nothing to do with the cold.” Emily replied, biting her lip.

“Is it such a good idea to be out here all alone at night?” Hotch asked. “I'm sure it’s warmer in your bedroom.”

“I'm sure too but I just don’t want to be anywhere near that party.” Emily sat down on the futon, wrapping Hotch’s coat tighter around her. She could hear the wind whistling outside. “Sit with me.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. Hotch sat down and took a deep breath. Damned if he wasn’t nervous. Sometimes he had no idea how to react around Emily. Part of him was ashamed, not of how he felt about her but how he let it get out of control. Another part wanted to hold onto her and never let go. Still another part wanted to be reassigned before he got in so deep he couldn’t climb out.

“What’d you do with that mistletoe?” he asked.

“You don’t need it to kiss me.”

“I don’t think…”

“Don't think, Hotch, act.”

“I'm not that kind of man. Every act has a consequence, whether we foresee it or not. To act knowing the consequences are dire is irresponsible.”

“Dire?” Emily tried to hold back her laughter but failed. “Someone’s gonna die if you kiss me?”

“I could lose my job. God knows what your mother would do to you. This isn’t a book or a fantasy…dammit Emily.”

“Then leave.” She took his coat from her shoulders and pushed it against his chest. “Leave like they all do; I don’t care.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What's not fair about it?” She raised her voice. “You don’t always get to take the high road, Hotch. Sometimes you're gonna be the asshole…deal with it.”

“You are so…”

“What? I'm so what?”

“Infuriating!” Hotch exclaimed, putting the coat back over her shoulders.

“Yes! Thank you.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“It’s OK to have feelings. It’s OK to feel love, hate, lust, pain, or frustration; it’s OK to feel all of it. You can't go through life being above the fray. If you do, the fall is gonna kill you.”

“I have no earthly idea what you're talking about.”

“Fine.”

Emily flagged him, stood up from the futon, and lit a clove. Hotch still sat on the couch. He was unsure of what to do next. He knew what he wanted to do but so far his rational side was winning.

“What did you come here for?” Emily asked.

“I don’t like talking to your back.” He replied.

She sighed, turning around. Sometimes he was so difficult. That made him even more attractive. The more he ticked her off, the more Emily wanted him. She liked being challenged. Hell, at least Hotch gave a damn. That was more than she could say for anyone else in her life.

“Why are you here, Hotch?” she asked again.

“I thought I would at least bring you a present before I went home.”

“What are you waiting for…an engraved invitation?”

Hotch rolled his eyes. He didn’t know why he thought it would be a romantic, special moment. Things with Emily were never how things would be with any other woman. Maybe that was what was so fascinating about her; what attracted him so much.

Hotch had to think it was something more than the way her body felt on his, the way she touched him, the delicious thoughts that burst through his mind before he came inside of her. All of that was bad, bad, bad. Instead he just patted the futon beside him. Emily smiled, taking one more puff of her clove and putting it out. She sat down, looking at him expectantly.

“I guess I should tell you that I didn’t get you anything.” Emily said. “It wasn’t as if I didn’t want to but…”

Hotch put his finger over her lips. He could only smile when Emily slipped it into her mouth. This was going to turn into something else altogether if he didn’t put a stop to that.

“Christmas isn’t about giving to get…nothing should be about that. Anyway, you got me such lovely things for my birthday and you didn’t have to do that. Open it.”

She opened the box that he pulled out of his suit jacket pocket. When she saw the compact, Emily smiled. It was sterling silver with an intricate design on the front. Emily thought it might be antique but wasn’t sure. The idea of Hotch spending antique money on her was intriguing but in the end the cost didn’t matter. It was surely the most precious gift she’d ever received.

“Its beautiful.” She whispered.

“You're beautiful.” He said. “Now you can look into it and see what I see.”

Emily didn’t know what to say so she just kissed him. She could always use her body when words failed her. Hotch pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. She moaned into his mouth and leaned back on the futon. He came with her, had no choice, but then pulled away.

“I should go.” He stood up.

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Its getting late and um…”

“You don’t have to make up excuses with me, Hotch.”

Emily stood as well, slipping his coat off and handing it back. For a while they just stood there, neither sure what to do. She knew what she wanted to do. Emily wanted him; wanted him to be her Christmas gift. She was mad at herself for living in this little fantasy world but what she felt for him was nothing she ever had before. The feelings were new, special, and made her feel better than any drug she’d ever taken. Knowing it was only a matter of time before they too were taken away from her only made Emily more determined to get as much as she could.

“I’ll see you…well I'm leaving town so…”

“Where are you going?” Emily hoped her voice sounded neutral. It was hard since her heart was pounding in her chest.

“I'm going home for the holiday. I’ll be back on the 27th; I’ll come by to see you.”

“No, I’ll come by to see you.”

“Alright.” Hotch pulled her into his embrace. “Merry Christmas, Emily, I hope it’s a good one.”

“Sure.” she tried to smile.

He lingered for a few minutes, found it hard to let go. Hotch kissed her forehead and finally walked out of the shack. Sighing, Emily flopped down on the futon. She held the compact in her hand, opened it, and looked at herself.

“What does he see?” she asked the mirror. It gave no response.

She knew what she saw and didn’t like it very much. It was time for some changes. Emily was 18 now; she didn’t have to live her life for anyone anymore. There were still rules, restrictions, temptations, and everything else. But this life was getting old.

She wanted to be the person Hotch saw deep down because she liked her better. It wasn’t going to be easy; this wasn’t the first epiphany she’d had to change. Her environment had a way of sucking her back in even when she thought her will was strong enough to resist. Emily’s will definitely wasn’t at its best right now. Her means of escaping usually did more harm than good.

But she knew she could change and make her life what it should to be. Hotch wouldn’t always be a part of it…even immersed in the fantasy Emily was well aware of that. Still, it was time to let some experiences be positive and lead to something better. He saw it, even at her worse. She knew it even when she wasn’t listening. It was time to leave the darkness behind and look ahead to a brighter future.

***

  



End file.
